


Wind

by unscheduledmakeouts



Series: 30-day Drabbles [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:44:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unscheduledmakeouts/pseuds/unscheduledmakeouts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Under normal circumstances he would never be running after an escaped umbrella.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wind

Under normal circumstances he would  _never_  be running after an escaped umbrella.

_This is so beneath my dignity,_  Kurt thinks grumpily as he sprints through a rainy Central Park, chasing after the wind-taken item. The cold rain is splashing in his face and he’s going to be  _so late_  for class but if he loses this umbrella Rachel will skin him alive and he’d very much like to avoid that. It’s her favourite (although Kurt doesn’t really understand how someone gets so attached to an umbrella) and she’d made it absolutely clear when she lent it to him that if he lost or broke it, it would be very painful for him.

So here he is, designer boots splashing through the muddy puddles on the ground as he runs, praying he won’t get sweaty. _Being soaked with rain is bad enough, thank you very much._  He can see the object of his chase fluttering to the ground some twenty feet ahead and he dashes to get it before the next gust of wind catches it. Unfortunately he’s too late, the umbrella lifts up off the ground again and flies… straight into a person.

_Oh shit._

“I’m so sorry, sir!” Kurt pants out, stopping a few feet from the stranger who’s carrying a black umbrella to protect himself from the downpour. “It’s the wind, it’s –“

He doesn’t get any further than that, because the man turns around, Rachel’s umbrella in hand, and smiles and  _oh._

“Don’t worry about it, I think I’ll live,” he says, voice calm and pleasant and eyes crinkling from the smile. “Make sure to hold on to it tighter now.”

Kurt isn’t listening because he can’t stop staring into the man’s eyes, big and brown and so  _kind_  in a mesmerizing way, like they’ve seen all the trouble in the world but still truly believes in the goodness of mankind. Kurt is baffled. He’s just staring, absent-mindedly licking his lips, and doesn’t even realize the man is trying to give him the umbrella back until it gently touches his arm. He jumps and looks down and grabs it, blushing furiously.

“Sorry, I –“

Again he’s cut off, this time by his scarf which, having decided to unwind itself while he ran, is caught by a sharp gust of wind and blows right into the stranger’s face. Kurt gasps and grabs for the fabric, devastated that he’s embarrassing himself so much in front of this handsome stranger. But yet again the man seems unbothered, gathering the scarf off his face and handing it over to Kurt with the smile still intact.

“I am  _so_  sorry,” Kurt says frantically, taking the scarf and winding it haphazardly around his neck. “This wind is horrible.”

“Tell me about it,” the man agrees, glancing up towards the sky and grabbing his own umbrella tighter when the wind increases. “People chasing newspapers and hats have been my entertainment all morning.”

Kurt lets out a sharp bark of laughter and quickly covers his mouth, giggling slightly while glancing up at the man.  _He’s so handsome,_  he thinks, trying to will away the blush from his cheeks.  _Be cool._

“What’s your name?” the man asks suddenly, holding out his free hand towards Kurt. “Because I’m assuming it’s not Rachel, as it says in gold letters on the umbrella you were chasing.”

“Oh, oh right,” Kurt stutters out, oh god he’d completely forgotten about Rachel’s little handiwork. “No, Kurt. It’s Kurt. My name, that is.”  _Oh god, what am I saying._  “Rachel is my friend, she… she likes things that glitter.” _Stop talking right now._

“I can see that,” the man says, laughing a little. Kurt finally reaches out and takes his hand, and mentally thanks himself for not wearing gloves that day. The touch of bare skin seems to send sparks through his whole body.  _Who is this man,_  he thinks to himself as the stranger gently but securely shakes his hand and looks him in the eye.

“My name’s Blaine.”


End file.
